


Love in the Time of Lycanthropy

by novemberhush



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: A Valentine's Day fic in July you say?, A little of the history of Valentine's Day, And Stiles deserves them too, Because I seem to include that in all my Valentine's fics, But Derek deserves all the nice things and that includes love and happiness, Established Relationship, M/M, Okay I'll stop talking now, So I gave them to them, Sorry about that but it fitted the prompt, Tiny bit of Angst, Yeah I couldn't believe my luck when I found the wolf link either, lots of fluff, sterek, why yes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-12-02 07:22:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11504493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/novemberhush/pseuds/novemberhush
Summary: Derek's had his share of lovers, but he's never had a Valentine. Until now.





	Love in the Time of Lycanthropy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Loyalty2WayStreet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loyalty2WayStreet/gifts).



> Hey! So I'm kind of new to the Sterek fandom, and 'Teen Wolf' in general (better late than never, right?), and I really haven't even seen that much of it yet, but I'd read a few fics here and there before. Then recently I _really_ got into it and dragged Loyalty2WayStreet with me! And I just knew I had to write for this pairing. Please forgive me if there are any glaring inaccuracies. As I said, I'm new to the fandom. This fic was written for Loyalty2WayStreet who sent me the prompt, "You did all this for me?" I hope you enjoy. :-)

“Okay, you can look now.”

Derek opened his eyes and scanned the loft, taking in the soft twinkle of the fairy lights strung around the walls. The picnic blanket spread out on the floor amidst a sea of rose petals. The champagne chilling in an ice bucket along with two crystal flutes, glinting in the glow from the lights. The finger food just made for lovers to feed to each other this day.

The day card and candy manufacturers and florists and jewellers, and the tender hearts who keep them in business, have dubbed the most romantic in the calendar - Valentine’s Day. The fact its roots are said to lie in the pagan festival of Lupercalia (Feast or Day of the Wolf) is not lost on Derek’s dry sense of humour. It is not a day that has ever given him much else to smile about. He has never had much cause to celebrate it, or anyone to celebrate it with for that matter, before.

Oh, he knows that Paige, if they’d ever had a Valentine’s Day together, would have done all this for him, for them. Of that he has no doubt. But she never had the chance to. She never had the chance to do so many things and Derek will always carry the weight of guilt for the role he played in what happened to her, no matter how young or manipulated by others he’d been at the time.

Then there was Kate, and, well, anything she would have done for him on this day would have been done out of calculation with an eye to exploit and control and mislead him, not out of love. Never that. Not from her.

Jennifer? The less said about her, the better. Derek was barely able to suppress the shudder of revulsion that shivers through him every time he thinks of her.

There had been others, of course, but somehow he’s always found himself single when February 14th rolled around. That’s not to say he hasn’t gotten his fair share of cards before, because he has, and that’s not counting the ones his mother sent him every year, without fail, right up until her death. They were the only cards that ever meant anything to him, if he’s honest, but they’re all gone now too, just one more precious thing lost in the fire that had taken so much from him.

And it’s not that he didn’t appreciate the others he received from smitten admirers, it’s just that they never came from someone who really knew him, actually knew what he was like, the _real_ him. Derek’s never believed anyone could truly love him, not once they knew what he was really like, what he really _was_. Once they knew the worst of him. Every deep, dark secret. And, God, he’s got enough of those to last a lifetime.

But then, Stiles knows them all. And he’s still here. Making the effort to give Derek the full Hallmark/Lifetime Movies Valentine’s Day experience, apparently. Right down to the card he’d smacked rather unceremoniously against Derek’s chest a minute ago after he’d finally led Derek back into his own loft under penalty of no sex for a month if he opened his eyes before Stiles said he could.

Derek had snorted at the empty threat, knowing Stiles would never be able to hold out that long, but he kept his eyes shut all the same. Until Stiles had said it was okay to look, voice wavering and the reek of anxiety rolling off him in waves, clearly nervous about how Derek would react. He’d hit him with the card before Derek could say a word. Derek looked down at it now, still unopened in his hand.

Opening the envelope painstakingly carefully, as if to preserve it for future generations, he extracted the card, half expecting to find himself face to face with the world’s cheesiest, pinkest, most ridiculous Valentine’s card. Instead he was greeted with a elegant, classy affair, pearl white with just the word ‘Always’ written in beautiful, flowing cursive in gold lettering on the front. He could feel from the quality of the cardstock that its simplicity belied its expensiveness.

Looking up, he tried to catch Stiles’ eye, but his other half (and as far as Derek was concerned that wasn’t just a simple turn of phrase, Stiles really _did_ feel like the other half of him) wasn’t ready to see Derek’s reaction to his gesture just yet and Derek wasn’t going to force the issue. After all, he still had the inside of the card to read. Taking a deep breath to try to calm his heart, which felt like it was about to beat out of his chest at any moment, he opened the card and was met with a neater version of Stiles’ usual chicken scratch.

  
_Derek,_

_  
It took us a while to get here, but it was worth the wait. **You** were worth the wait. And now that we’re here, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be, and no one else I’d rather be with. I love you. Always._

_  
Now, be a good boy and go fetch my present from where I know you stashed it. Seriously, did you really think you could hide anything from me??_

  
_All my love, now and forever, my own sweet Sourwolf,_

_Stiles_

  
Derek felt the tears bubble up and quickly closed the card lest any of them should spill over on to it and ruin the sentiments Stiles had so lovingly inscribed inside. Swiping at the tears in his eyes, he looked up to find that Stiles, the one responsible for putting them there, was finally ready to meet his eye.

  
Gesturing at the scene laid out before him, the fairy lights, the rose petals, the champagne, everything no one had ever done for him before, he said the only thing he could right then.

  
“You did all this for me?”

  
He could hear the incredulity in his own voice and from the flash of sadness he saw in Stiles’ eyes he knew he’d heard it too. But he was Stiles, and this was Derek, so he replied in the only way _he_ could. With sarcasm.

  
“No, I did it for the _other_ grumpy, slow on the uptake, insanely hot furry dude I’m having the most incredible, mind-blowing, best sex of my life with on the regular that also happens to live here.”

  
Derek felt a grin tugging at his lips, but before it could take hold, he rolled his eyes, knowing it was expected of him at this point. That knowledge didn’t take away from the enjoyment he felt at falling back into their old, familiar way of being.

  
“Stiles, I’m the _only_ sex you’ve had in your life.”

  
“Well, what can I say? Your mouth is heaven, your ass is the eighth wonder of the world and your dick has enslaved me eternally. You have forever ruined me for any and all others.”

  
Derek couldn’t help the bright laugh that burst out of him. And the effect it had on Stiles was breathtaking. He always had a glow about him to Derek’s eyes, but in that moment it was as if Derek’s happiness alone was enough to light him up from the inside. It was a good look on him and one that humbled Derek down to his core. It had been a long time since his happiness had meant so much (meant _anything_ ) to anyone, but for someone as special as Stiles to care about him, to _love_ him, was almost incomprehensible to Derek. He still didn’t think he deserved Stiles’ love, but he knew it would kill him if he ever lost it.

  
Some of what he was thinking must’ve shown on his face because Stiles stepped towards him then, arms reaching out to envelop Derek in a comforting embrace, voice low and soothing as he whispered quiet, but heartfelt, assurances in his lover’s ear.

  
“Hey, hey, it’s okay. It’s okay, Derek. Where did you go, huh? Come back to me, babe. Come back to me.”

  
Derek sniffled a little, nosing into the warm, trusting skin of his mate’s throat, losing himself for a moment in the divine scent he found there and all the things it meant to him. Home. Peace. Love. _Stiles_.

  
“Always,” he muttered, managing to find his voice again.

  
“Huh?” Stiles asked, pulling back a little to look at Derek, his talents many, but his hearing still not werewolf acute.

  
“I said ‘always’. I’ll always come back to you, Stiles. I’d never leave you again if it was up to me.”

  
“Oh,” Stiles smiled, eyes soft and happy, but still unable to resist an opportunity to tease. “Well, I suppose I could learn to live with you following me around like the overgrown, lovestruck puppy you are.”

  
Derek growled, but they were both long past the point of even pretending that was intimidating when aimed at Stiles. Drawing Stiles gently back into his arms, Derek’s eye was caught by the sparkle of the fairy lights bouncing off the champagne flutes over Stiles’ shoulder and he smiled to himself, seeing his chance for a little revenge teasing.

  
“You do know that champagne’s going to have absolutely no effect on me whatsoever, right? Because if you were hoping to get me drunk and take advantage of my heavenly mouth, wonderful ass and eternal dick then you’re shit out of luck, Stilinski.”

This time it was Stiles’ turn to snort. “Yeah, right,” he scoffed,” like I have to get you drunk to score with you. All I have to do is bare my throat and waft my intoxicating eau de Stiles your way and you’re putty in my hands. Seriously, there’s not enough mountain ash in existence to keep you away from me when you get the scent in your nostrils and the tingle in your pants, big guy. I’m like your own personal brand of catnip. Which I guess is kind of ironic, Dogboy.”

Derek growled again and nipped at Stiles’ earlobe with his teeth.

  
“Ouch! One, that hurt. Two, you can do it again anytime. And, three, yeah, I know, it’s _Wolf_ boy, sorry. Oh, and four, I know alcohol has no effect on you. That’s not why I got the champagne.”

  
“No?” Derek mumbled, mouthing at the exposed skin at the juncture of his partner’s neck and shoulder, much more interested in that than as to why Stiles had set up the champagne and glasses.

  
“No,” Stiles replied, squirming a little as Derek’s ministrations began to have the desired effect on him. “As the kids like to say these days, I did it for _the_ _aesthetic_.”

  
“Oh, is that why you did it?” Derek huffed against his cheek, obviously amused, before placing a tender kiss there. “For the aesthetic?”

  
“Yep. I’m totally down with doing things just for _the aesthetic_.”

  
“Uh-huh,” Derek deadpanned. “Well, as much as I appreciate everything you’ve done here for both me and _the aesthetic_ , do you think you could be down with doing _me_ instead right now?” As if he thought further persuasion were needed he nibbled at the spot on Stiles’ neck that he knew made him weak at the knees.

  
Some sort of strangled moan escaped his lover’s lips and he gripped Stiles tighter, holding him up and smirking as his Valentine’s knees did indeed buckle at his touch.

  
“Screw the aesthetic, Sourwolf,” Stiles moaned, hands coming up to lodge in Derek’s hair and pull him into a heated kiss.

  
“I’d much rather screw yo…” Derek husked when they came up for air, but not for the first time Stiles interrupted him.

  
“Yeah, yeah, cheesy lines later, hot sex now, 007.”

  
“Ooh, role play. I like it, _Mish_ _Moneypenny,"_ Derekdrawled in an approximation of a Scottish accent.

"Please,” Stiles said, generously choosing to ignore his boyfriend's atrocious attempt at a Sean Connery impression, "we both know I’m Q.”

  
“Well, you are a nerd, I’ll give you that.”

  
“Don’t act like you don’t like my smarts, Hale. You may act all ‘too cool for school’ in your leather jacket and your Henleys and your awesome car, but I know you love this sexy little nerd.”

  
Derek stopped with the kisses he’d been peppering over Stiles’ face and looked him straight in the eye, not a shred of pretence or artifice anywhere on his face, only genuine, open honesty.

  
“Yeah,” he said, “yeah, I do.”

  
And for that his reward was a face-splitting grin, warm brown eyes shining with happiness and the most incredible, mind-blowing, best sex of his life.

**Author's Note:**

> If you made it this far, thanks for reading. I hope it wasn't too painful for you! I'd appreciate any feedback you'd like to give, but if you want to just say hi then by all means do so, either in the comments section here, or over on tumblr where I'm also known as novemberhush. xxx


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